


loving them was red

by reginaswanmills



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginaswanmills/pseuds/reginaswanmills
Summary: loving betty is sweet and pink and gentle. it’s morning whispers of love and care, surprising acts of affection, and being her shoulder to cry on, and knowing that she is going to do everything in her power to help you. loving veronica was like the midnight sky combusted with fireworks of dark purples and blues. it’s running your fingers through her hair, reminding her of all of the good things she’s accomplished, and helping her through any crisis.but loving cheryl was red. true to her cherry bombshell nickname, it was fire and passion, and an explosion of all different shades of the color. she could make you feel loved and appreciated and special one minute; and as if loving her was dangerous the next.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Veronica Lodge, Cheryl Blossom/Betty Cooper, Cheryl Blossom/Betty Cooper/Veronica Lodge, Cheryl Blossom/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	loving them was red

**Author's Note:**

> au where cheryl and betty are not cousins. blossom and cooper family are not related — therefore, no incest. penelope blossom came from her own family, and not raised by the blossom family as a foster sister turned wife. but the blossoms and coopers do have a family feud because of polly and jason. he did die, but polly was never pregnant. 
> 
> it was an accidental drowning. clifford moved away after jason’s death. neither he nor penelope were ever good parents. no black hood or murders in town. hal and alice did get a divorce, but he wasn’t a good family man in general. hiram is in prison, and he cannot make any shady deals while there. he’s also not a good man, but veronica still loves him, because it’s season 1. 
> 
> this is set before season 2. i love season 1 vibes. this ignores toni & fangs & southside serpents in general. 
> 
> i just wanted some cute cherberonica stuff, okay.

i. midnight skies 

Veronica Lodge never tired of the late night nostalgia that came with driving through the town past sunset, or sharing milkshakes over Pops’ booth with the neon lights and jukebox music. Back in the city, there wasn’t as much freedom, as much quiet. Here, at times, the town was ghostly quiet at night, she could hear the crickets chirping. 

Maybe it was the mysterious vibes it gave off, or maybe her heart was just so full of affection for her occupants of the table. Either way, she could spend every night like this, fighting off yawns and exhausted eyes, and still want to do it all over again. 

Even at just seventeen, she knew that she loved her two partners. She knew that she didn’t want to let them go. Just watching Betty’s sheepish smile light up the entire diner, laughing merely because her body needed some way to express all of the jumbled up happiness she felt inside; it made Veronica’s former cold exterior seem like a lifetime away. 

At times, she thought she was ahead of her time. Like whenever she felt that rush of pride for Cheryl throughout her chest, whenever the Queen Bee let down her guard long enough to show that hidden vulnerability and grab one of their hands, or allow them to show her how much they care about her. Not in the way that she’d allow few guys to do before; but in a way that Veronica quickly realized was nothing other than true love. 

She loved these girls more than she loved the midnight skies; and Kevin Keller had even admitted to that being a considerable amount. She didn’t just love them in the way she loved her friends — not like how she held Josie and Archie and Jughead close to her heart, and would do just about anything for the circle of friends she’d managed to find. But in the way that she would do more than anything for these two. She would cut off the entire circle of friends if it meant keeping them as her loves. 

On this particular night, green and blue neon lights glaring through the window, smells of greasy fries and delicious onion rings wafting their way; Veronica could only see whoever entered their little bubble. She wasn’t focused on the outside world.

Just Betty and Cheryl. Betty — who’d been convinced to allow Cheryl to pick her outfit for tonight. Not that they both didn’t always adore whatever their blonde partner wore, but Cheryl had a fascination with Betty in leather jackets. Hence, the red leather covering the mint green tank beneath, tied in the front of her stomach as if she was a cowgirl from the countryside. Tight jeans clung to her hips; blonde hair tied into a high, curly ponytail. It was certainly different from her usual style, but she was still seen as the same sweet and adorable Betty they always knew. 

Besides, it wasn’t too hard to notice the way Betty enjoyed them getting her ready. The way Cheryl raked her hands through her hair, nails scratching lightly against her scalp, brushing with ease and gentleness. The way she ran her thumb across Betty’s cheekbone when applying blush or lipstick. Betty adored it; and they both knew it. 

And Cheryl — who’d never admit to anyone that she wore sweats and hoodies on lazy days. Tonight, she wore one of Veronica’s purple jackets, matching the black top she wore, and the soft leggings that were only bought because Betty claimed she needed to be comfortable sometimes. All of that was paired with the short heeled boots that Veronica kept her own foot against beneath the table; and the long red diva curls. 

Three milkshakes were laid out across the table, alongside their plates of fries and burgers and onion rings and Cheryl’s chicken salad. 

Betty’s laughter filled their bubble once more, and Veronica turned her head at hearing Cheryl’s little chuckle. She and Cheryl were better at controlling their affections in public. Riverdale couldn’t handle them quite yet. The idea of them becoming friends was still foreign to their families. However, Betty had so much love to give, and neither one of them had the heart to tell her to stop in public. 

Sitting across the table in her own side, she nearly doubled over in her laughter. The corners of Veronica’s mouth upturned into a smile. 

“Sweetheart, be careful,” Cheryl warned gently, through fighting off the urge to burst into laughter herself. Betty had almost knocked her half drank vanilla milkshake over, which had sent her into another round of giggles. Veronica’s heart soared. 

Betty managed to control her giggles after taking a few breaths, but the light in her eyes so obvious to everyone never faded. “I think Archie was the most freaked.” 

Cheryl teasingly tutted in response. “That’s because he couldn’t imagine his precious Betty dating the three-horned devil.” 

They were obviously referring to the previous week — or rather, the night they officially came out to their friends. Cheryl was still being integrated into their group, despite everyone’s previous disagreements. Though, with the amount of time they all spent together, Betty wanted so badly to tell them. 

It was no secret that Betty didn’t fall in love with gender, but a person. She’d always been pretty fluid in that department. Veronica had announced practically her first day in town that she was open to dating both men and women. Though, this small town offered her more female options than the city did — in some mysterious way. And Cheryl, after her long road of struggles, hadn’t put a label on herself quite yet; and that was okay with both of them. They knew she loved them. 

It had come as a shock to all of them. Josie was pleasantly surprised, but had congratulated them and warned them about treating Cheryl right. ( She’d then skipped off to Valerie, who they all agreed she could tell — as long as it was kept in the small circle. ) 

Archie had stammered over his words; but he wasn’t uncomfortable with it. Of course, he’d had brief romantic encounters with two out of three of them. That closet kiss with Veronica. And the small crush Betty used to harbor. Though, he was now taking a break from relationships, focusing on his music. He was happy for them; and still remained Betty’s best friend. 

Kevin was ecstatic. He asked a billion questions, but was also just really overjoyed to have another LGBT couple within the friend group. He’d been seeing Moose on the side more frequently; but both were still claiming that it was nothing. 

Jughead was the most shocked, in Veronica’s opinion. He and Betty had shared a few kisses, and he’d helped her out with finding Polly and the issues with her father; and, in turn, Betty had convinced her mother to allow him to stay in the guest room for a few weeks. Though, they’d never put a label on their relationship, never officially said they were dating, and it had ended pretty quickly. He and Betty were still friends, bonding over books and writing and newspaper articles. But his eyes had been blown wide, mouth agape in shock, and he’d been silent for a solid ten minutes. 

“You’re not the three-horned devil, Cheryl,” Betty playfully rolled her eyes; catching onto the teasing tone, but feeling that need to squash any of Cheryl’s insecurities before they affected her further. Her hand slid across the table subtly, interlocking behind a stack of two empty onion ring trays. 

Veronica smirked. She lay her arm on the table, perfectly manicured fingernail poking at both of their hands. “Except for when you drink all of the coffee.” 

Betty chuckled at that; and Cheryl playfully rolled her eyes — both reminded of the sleepover they’d had at Veronica’s a few nights ago, in which Cheryl waited until Veronica’s mother had already left for work, before making a pot of coffee for herself, leaving Veronica and Betty to sleep in. 

Veronica felt the nostalgia taking over once more. At times, it could be painful and leave her chest aching for hours. Right now, she never wanted this moment to end. 

+

ii. pink pastel 

Betty turned seventeen three weeks after Veronica did, four months after Cheryl. 

The theme of Cheryl’s party had been dark red and black — hundreds of balloons floating toward the ceiling, music blaring, sparkly dress shimmering. She’d been the center of everyone’s attention; and Betty knew she and Veronica were both happy to give her that. 

Penelope had stood near the bar — because it wouldn’t be a real Blossom party without teenagers from their school that Cheryl barely tolerated and adults that Penelope was bound to disagree with. She watched the party like a hawk. Cheryl danced, and encouraged her partners to roam around the house if the party got to be too much for them. 

It felt a bit surreal; their first big party as a secret couple. Though, when it was over and the guests had went home; Cheryl convinced her mother that she wanted a sleepover with both Betty and Veronica — which, of course, Nana Rose had agreed to supervise. That night, Cheryl was able to unwind from the parties of the past, ghosts haunting her at how similar it felt to previous years. Except, this time, she had Betty combing her fingers through her hair, urging her to get some much needed rest; and Veronica pressing kisses to her bare shoulder, reminding her how loved she was, and how she had made it to seventeen. 

Veronica’s party had been smaller. Her second birthday in Riverdale, second one without her father. She was able to talk to him on the phone before school — in which, under the guise of being friends, Cheryl had arranged for Josie’s Pussycats to serenade her with the ‘Happy Birthday’ song. Betty had managed to track down Veronica’s favorite cupcake place, surprising her with the red velvet kind she liked. 

Their group had a nice meal at Pops after school, squeezing seven people into one booth. Veronica had considered it a nice birthday surprise when Betty ended up sitting half on her lap and half on Cheryl’s, due to Kevin sitting on her other side. They’d all talked and laughed, and asked Veronica what her parties were like in the city before. 

The party had been amazing. Her father had contacted her mother long enough to set up a room at Town Hall, with a DJ and caterers. Betty had shown up in a pretty pink dress, and Cheryl in a long black one; and Veronica fought hard to tear herself away from them just to greet her other guests. If her mother suspected something about the fact that she’d also wanted Cheryl and Betty to spend the night; she didn’t question it. 

At this point, Betty figured the parents mostly thought it was just weird that the girls were friends; nothing more. That night, they’d watched Veronica’s favorite movies, cuddled up in her large bed. 

Now that it was Betty’s birthday, she was beyond excited. 

The morning had already been great. Her mother had made heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast, before surprising her with a necklace. Archie had dropped off a yellow gift bag filled with her favorite candies and CD’s. She’d even been allowed to call her sister before school. 

Though, once arriving there, Cheryl had texted for her to meet at her car in the parking lot. It was parked far back than usual, under the shade of a tree. Despite the early morning texts she’d already received, she was greeted with hugs and kisses and even more gifts. ( A dark grey hoodie from Cheryl, alongside a bracelet with all three of their initials engraved on the back. And a bouquet of roses from Veronica, with a blue ring pop slid onto her finger — with the promise of more gifts later. ) 

Sitting throughout class without either of them had been painfully slow and boring. But Archie had made it a game of flicking tiny pieces of paper back and forth without the teacher seeing; and Jughead had surprised her after first period with a new book that they’d been talking about recently. 

Lunch had been amazing. Veronica had gotten an assortment of cupcakes for them all. None of her friends playfully teased her about sitting between her two girlfriends. Kevin and Josie arrived with more candy — and a scrapbook of pictures from the younger years from Kevin, and her own set of pastel pink cat ears from Josie. All throughout the lunch, she felt Veronica’s hand on her hip, and Cheryl’s on her knee. 

Cheryl had taken charge of getting her ready hours in advance, something Betty felt extremely grateful for. She’d taken extra time in doing her hair, resulting in Betty leaning toward her more than once; the ministrations on her head filling her with comfort. But she’d created a small bun on top of her head, with blonde curls hanging down and framing her face.

“Thank you,” Betty admitted softly, cheeks pink with blush and under the harsh lighting of her bedroom walls mixed with the brightly yellow lamp. The room smelled of hairspray and vanilla perfume. Behind them, Veronica doused herself in it, adjusting the thin purple straps of her dress. 

She herself was wearing yet another pink dress; different to the one she’d worn to all the parties before, but so fitting for her personality and just so Betty Cooper. Cheryl, true to her cherry bombshell nature, was planning on changing into her own red dress right after she’d finished getting Betty ready. 

“Of course,” Cheryl’s fingers tipped Betty’s chin up. She didn’t want to ruin the lipgloss she’d just applied, and opted for pressing her lips to Betty’s cheek, free of lipstick for now. “Happy Birthday, Elizabeth.” 

Overall, the party was something straight out of Betty’s nine year old diary. Something she dreamed up of fairytales and enchanted forests. Lights hung all around the room, casting a soft warm glow across the everyone. Cupcakes of chocolate cake with pink frosting, decorated by Pop himself, sat upon trays. Decorations of all shades of Betty’s favorite color splayed across the room. Music set up by Fred Andrews played not too loud. 

Betty had opened gift after gift, ate cupcakes after cupcake, and danced to song after song. By the time the party began unwinding, her feet were sore and she was ready to fall into a peaceful slumber — too content and happy to be awake long enough to let anything else ruin the day. 

“Let me guess,” Her mother had crossed her arms over her yellow floral blouse, eyes narrowing, smile threatening to break out. “You want Veronica and Cheryl to sleepover.” Betty had nodded hopefully, and when her mother had agreed, she couldn’t help but thinking that she wouldn’t be smiling if she knew Betty’s true intentions for always hanging out with them. 

That night, Betty was consumed by love. She was only seventeen, and she knew what love felt like. 

Laying on her stomach, in a pair of Veronica’s sweats and a beige top, curls let down from the bun. She clutched one hand onto Veronica’s, and one onto Cheryl’s; allowing, in turn, one of Veronica’s to trace patterns over her shoulder blades, and one of Cheryl’s to comb through her hair. 

“Did you have a good day?” Veronica whispered, despite the quiet and stillness of the house. Betty nodded, too comfortable for words. Her eyelids fluttered every few seconds, threatening to pull her into sleep; but she didn’t want to let this moment go quite yet. Veronica chuckled softly. “Good. We love you.” 

“Sleep,” Cheryl encouraged a few moments later. Betty felt a kiss being placed on the tip of her nose. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

+

iii. red portraits of fire and ice 

Cheryl Blossom had always been both fire and ice. She portrayed fire in a way that was hot and angry. Whenever her heels clacked against the tiled halls, or she snapped at a random classmate in her path of destruction, or she showed her metaphorical devil horns. Though, consumed by red with the hair color and the lipstick and everything else that was Cheryl Bombshell, most often forgot she was also ice. 

Her blood wasn’t warm, though red. It ran through her veins like ice. Icy cold on a winter’s night, icicles sticking to her every movement. Her words weren’t hot venom, but cold poison. She gripped her nails into people and dug until they had nothing left. It was how she survived. It was how she’d been taught. It’s what happened to her.

Dramatic was the Blossom way. To survive, Cheryl was taught to be mean. She was taught to be cold. Not just because she was a Blossom woman — because, surely, being a Blossom man was far better. Just ask Jason. — but because she was the daughter of Satan herself. Satan Junior was what she’d once been called, and she hadn’t forgotten since. 

She was supposed to slash everyone with her vicious words, especially those she loved. 

They all had issues. Betty was insecure after years of teasing from her classmates, and paranoid about falling into the same psycho spiral as her sister. Veronica had some major parental problems, alongside her trust issues, and her former bitch-self persona. Cheryl, though, thought she was far too messed up to even belong with them. She counted herself lucky that they understood her issues, or understood that she even had them at all. 

Some days, she didn’t mind that her peers referred to her as Queen Bitch. She was a bitch. She had been a bitch and a bully and everything in between to most of them. Some days, she simply didn’t care that they couldn’t see that she had changed, that she was working on changing constantly for the two that she loved. 

Other days, she was depressed — to put it simply. She loathed herself and what she had become. At such a young age, she had become hateful and monstrous. She’d been groomed and manipulated, but she’d done a lot of it on her own, too. 

Some days, she would yell and scream and fight. Not just with the monster she battled within, but with the people were trying to banish the monster. The ones who tried fighting, tried beating, tried winning. The ones who battled with monsters, she battled with. She was fighting with the monster and defending it at the same time. 

Though, each and every time, they understood. She cried and apologized, and they forgave her. They forgave her as soon as she said it, and she didn’t know if that made them stupid or brave. 

It happened less and less. She was working on herself, and they were supporting her. They continued to love her. Betty continued to shush her apologies gently, kissing the tips of her fingers, telling her that she was not an awful person. Veronica didn’t have as many words, but her physical comfort was enough. She’d lay there and run her fingers through red tresses, and quiet her with soft kisses. 

“I love you.” She speaks to both, not one in particular. She tries to remind them — even if she’s not good at expressing her vulnerable side or anything really. She says it, even when they’re in the middle of doing their own random things. 

She’s working on science homework at her desk. Veronica’s sitting on the dark loveseat against one wall, painting her nails. Betty’s sprawled across Cheryl’s unmade bed, rumpled comforter and pillows thrown about, reading a book. Blonde hair frames her face like an angelic halo, and Ronnie’s got her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in that adorable concentrated expression she uses whenever she’s focusing really hard. 

Betty turns away from her book, nearly dropping it on her nose. “We love you too, Cher.” 

The corners of red-painted lips upturn. Her eyes gloss over slightly. She doesn’t want to cry every time they admit their affections, but it’s so hard not to. She’d spent years feeling unloved and unwanted, and then had tried to make everyone feel the same. Hearing that she now was loved and wanted always made her more emotional than it should. 

“Always,” Veronica says, putting the cap on her nail polish. She walks carefully across the room, cautious not to smudge any polish on the Blossom’s carpet. She presses a kiss to her head once reaching her, running a hand over her shoulder, tucking red strands behind her ear. 

This prompts Betty to stand up, book abandoned on the bed, and make her way to them. She runs one hand up Veronica’s tanned arm, and interlocks her other one with Cheryl’s. Her smile is bright and big, and Cheryl wants to smile like that too. 

They’re loving her, still and despite whatever she’d done in the past. They’re here with her and they say they’re not going to leave, and Cheryl takes time to cherish this moment, because she isn’t sure how many moments she’ll have left.


End file.
